


A Disney Kiss

by comtessedebussy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/pseuds/comtessedebussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels don't need to breathe. Humans, however, do. A short ficlet about Dean and Castiel's first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Disney Kiss

In Hell, Dean Winchester learned to torture. But it takes Castiel a while to understand that, once back from Hell, the one person Dean Winchester still enjoys inventing tortures for is himself. He’s become a master at causing pain under Alistair, and he’s even more of an expert at causing himself pain.

It breaks Castiel’s heart to see Dean like that. Well, he assumes that’s what heartbreak feels like, because he’s still getting used to these human bodies but he assumes that pain in his chest is something akin to pain of the heart. It’s rather like being stabbed with an angel blade, he thinks, when he feels a sharp pain in his chest as he looks at Dean, the (to the Winchester’s mind) sad, pathetic excuse for a human who broke in Hell.

And he won’t let anyone make it better. Castiel knows that no matter how many times he tells him, Dean won’t believe he’s loved. That he’ll just see the bad things and not the good things. He always has some clever quip, or, sometimes (and this is even worse) Dean asks why a goddamn Angel of the Lord would bother with a mere human being anyway.  
And tonight is no different. The way Dean’s jaw is set tonight, it looks like he’s invented a new form of torture by offering himself a new angle to consider all the shit he’s ever gone through in life, and though Castiel has had millennia of being patient and logical and calm and cold, Dean Winchester is the one who managed to make him feel and he’s the one that breaks his patience in mere seconds.

Castiel walks up to Dean, invading the personal space that Dean complains about, takes him by the hair and slams him against the wall. Castiel’s long ago given up on the power of words to change anything with Dean, but he still dares to hope that showing will work better than telling. Dean’s obviously surprised, though certainly not astonished. Castiel’s kissed him before, a few times, though Dean managed to run away before it got farther than that.

Castiel attacks Dean’s mouth, ravaging and invading. Biting and suckling and exploring. Dean just savors the feeling of drowning in it, waiting for Castiel to break the kiss so that he can push him away again and go back to pretending it never happened. But in the meantime, he just lets Cas kiss the breath out of him.

Except that Cas won’t stop and now Dean can’t breathe and the breathlessness is starting to be less of a high and more of a painful necessity. Castiel’s lips are still soft and their tongues are tangled and tasting each other and it would be almost, well, heavenly if there wasn’t that painful burning necessity for air in his chest. He pushes Cas away, breaks their contact, and has time to gasp “Cas” before the angel’s lips are on him again. He pushes away with all his might, but Castiel is strong – he’s an Angel, and all – and he will show Dean Winchester that he’s loved, damn it, if he needs to kiss him until his lips are numb. And so all Dean’s protests and attempts to break away and even soft punches on Castiel’s shoulder are ignored. Dean is so short of breath by this point that he’s seeing stars even with his eyes closed, and suddenly his hands unclench from the lapels of Castiel’s coat and it all goes dark.

Castiel feels the hunter fall in alarm, catching him effortlessly before Dean hits the ground. Dean’s pulse is steady and he’s obviously still alive, but unconscious. Castiel cocks his head to the side in confusion before taking Dean up into his arms and carrying him over to the bed, the way he’d seen Rhett Butler carrying Scarlett O’Hara when a clip of the movie had been playing on a screen at a diner they’d been to once. He lays Dean down on the bed carefully and sits by him, one hand in Dean’s hair as Dean’s eyes flutter open.

“Cas,” is the first thing he says. It’s followed closely by a look of embarrassment.

“Oh God. I….I fainted, didn’t I? ” Dean asks.

“I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t know – “

“We humans have got to breathe, you know. Not like damn Angels of the Lord.”

Castiel blinks at this. A look of comprehension dawns on his face.

Dean lets out a huffing noise, raising himself up on his elbows.

“Guess we humans just aren’t like you angels with all your might and wisdom and mojo,” he says. “Can’t even handle kissing an angel,” he adds, and all Castiel sees is just another twist of the knife.

He bends down, then, and kisses Dean gently on the lips. It’s slow and tender and, above all, quick. Then Cas pulls away, smiling.

“Maybe it’s just the angel who doesn’t know how to kiss properly,” he says. Dean smiles at that. Castiel thinks that there should probably be a word for the opposite of “heartbreak,” that warm feeling in your chest when love makes you happy and it feels like all the shattered pieces are whole again. It’s the feeling he experiences as he looks at Dean smile. Not just smirk halfheartedly but smile, eyes sparkling and the corners of his eyes crinkling.

And then Castiel just takes Dean in his arms. Dean tries to protest, of course he does, but he’s still a little too weak from his “fainting spell” (though Dean would probably shoot anybody using that word in his vicinity) and they’ve just proved how much stronger Castiel is. So they lie there, on a cheap motel bed in New Harmony, an Angel of the Lord holding Dean Winchester in his arms.


End file.
